Twenty Five Thoughts
by Kyrandis
Summary: Twenty-five prompts can tell twenty-five stories. Well. Oneshots. Drabbles? Rated T just in case. DISCONTINUED.
1. Beginnings

**Okay. So. This is...not exactly a 'story,' per se. Twenty-five prompts, twenty-five drabbles/oneshots. Simple enough to understand, yes? Their genres will be varying, depending on the prompt, so...that's why I chose 'General' for the story. xD;;  
So, seeing as this is a little thing I'm doing with my awesome friend, Wolfehness, I really couldn't care less if this got flamed. If you don't like it, don't read it. You can always go flame my other stories. xD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, sadly. :C**

**EDIT: Thanks to Queen Annie-Ferny Cullen for catching my mistake. I mixed up Shrewpaw and Spiderleg with Hollykit, Birchkit, and Larchkit. So yeah. Leafpaw shouldn't have been in this chapter. BUT IT'S ALL FIXED NOW. C:**

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**1. Beginnings**

It was a normal Clan day. The sun was shining down warmly from up in the sky, and the clouds drifted by lazily. It was sunhigh, and many cats were sitting outside the dens, absorbing the sun's rays and sharing tongues with each others. Not all cats were partaking in this activity, though. Currently, a dusty-colored tomcat was pacing around restlessly outside the nursery.

"Ferncloud, I've sent for Cinderpelt," he mewed, sounding anxious. "Why can't I come in?"

Just then, Cinderpelt hurried forward. "She's kitting," the medicine cat explained kindly. "Just wait here; everything will be alright." Only a slight flash of fear in her eyes betrayed her uncertainty; clearly she was still upset with losing Silverstream. She drew in a quick breath and squared her shoulders, as if bracing herself.

Dustpelt could barely manage to nod his head in acknowledgment as the she-cat slipped inside the den. The next moments seemed to pass by at an agonizingly slow rate. He could hear the pained cries of his mate and Cinderpelt's soothing murmurs. He didn't know how long it would last, but he did know one thing for sure: he didn't envy she-cats one bit.

Suddenly, Cinderpelt padded out of the den. "It's over," she mewed. Though she tried to hide it, Dustpelt caught a bit of relief and excitement in her bright blue eyes. "Ferncloud has given birth to two kits."

Dustpelt blinked. "Can I go in, now?" he asked, hardly able to breathe as he registered the fact that he was now a father.

The medicine cat nodded, and the warrior squeezed inside the den. There was his mate and, pushed up against her belly, there were two beautiful kits.

Cinderpelt poked her head into the den to meow, "I'll leave you two alone for awhile, but Ferncloud's tired, so don't take too long." Then she nodded and left, flicking her tail in farewell.

Dustpelt rasped his tongue over Ferncloud's ear. The she-cat looked up at him wearily, though she returned the greeted. The two lay together in silence for a bit, then Dustpelt meowed, a bit hesitantly, "What should we name them?"

"Now, now, there's no rush," chuckled Goldenflower, who was in her own nest a few fox-lengths away.

Dustpelt shrugged, but he was secretly thinking that he would like to name the black-furred kit 'Spiderkit.' He looked at the other one and wondered what to name it. Then he decided to leave that one up to Ferncloud—he had already taken it upon himself to select one name, after all.

Ferncloud purred softly as she gazed at her kits through loving eyes. Then she looked up at Dustpelt and murmured, "It's the beginning of two new lives in ThunderClan."

Dustpelt, with nothing to say, just purred in agreement, already proud of his new kits.

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**Yeah, I know this one was really short. The next one is even shorter, sorry. No inspiration right now. And if you think this one is bad...don't even bother reading the next one. xD**


	2. Middles

**Yeah. Seriously short. Just a lil' drabble I thought of when I saw the word 'middles.' Trapped in the middle of a prophecy, you know?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors...or else it would seriously suck...  
**

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**2. Middles**

**Trapped Within a Prophecy – Brambleclaw's Reflections**

_Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red._

That's what StarClan said, but no one knew what it meant. Not even me. The only thing we _did_ know was obvious—peace in the Clans would be nonexistent until a battle had occurred. I had no idea that the prophecy actually centered around me and my half-brother, Hawkfrost. I knew I was meeting Hawkfrost and Tigerstar every night, in the Place of no Stars. Part of me knew it was wrong...but I ignored the smart part of my conscience. I carried on visiting my kin, oblivious to the fact that my ambition was growing stronger and stronger.

I remember the day the prophecy had been fulfilled, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. It wasn't a pleasant day, as I recall.

I was padding along the lakeshore, on the way to the ShadowClan border to meet Hawkfrost. As I walked, I worked out what I could say to him. I had to tell my half-brother my thoughts. Being a Clan leader was one thing, but ruling the whole forest? Yes, I was excited at first, but when I woke up in the morning, I was thinking... It's too much, ruling the whole forest. Besides, StarClan wouldn't allow it.

But when I saw the ambitious gleam in Hawkfrost's eyes, I couldn't speak up. And then he revealed Firesstar, laying trapped and helpless. I was frozen in shock.

I didn't want to kill Hawkfrost...I couldn't! But I had to. He had become too dangerous, too ambitious. With a jolt, I realized how close I had become to being like that. And as I lunged forward, the stick from the fox trap clamped in my mouth, realization hit me. The prophecy...blood would spill blood—we were kin and, therefore, blood. I don't know why this had to happen, though, and I don't know why I was the one destined to kill him. Maybe StarClan wanted me to prove my loyalty, one way or another.

I don't know, honestly. All I know is that I, Brambleclaw, had been trapped—trapped in the middle of a prophecy.

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**Just say it. I know you want to. Ultimate suckage.** **xD**


	3. Ends

**Yes, I actually made a oneshot! C:  
Original characters, sorry. Because I woke up with a very strange idea, and I can't think of anyone in the series who would act like they do in the end. xD  
Enjoy~ :3**

**Disclaimer: Do I even have to say it? This is _fan_fiction! I don't own Warriors. :C  
**

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**3. Ends**

**Worse than Death**

The warrior Blackwhisker padded out of camp, flicking his tail to beckon for the younger cat to follow him. "I'm going to show you some of the Clan territory today, Thrushpaw, " he meowed. "What do you think about going to see the ShadowClan border?"

The young she-cat nodded fiercely. "That sounds great!" she mewed, bounding after her mentor. "Is ThunderClan territory big?"

"Big enough," the warrior replied. He led the apprentice across the territory, bringing her farther and farther away from the hollow where the ThunderClan camp was located. He paused only to point out important landmarks. Eventually, he could catch a glimpse of the twoleg path ahead. "There it is."

Thrushpaw bounded forward eagerly, but was stopped by her mentor. "Don't stray onto ShadowClan territory," he warned. "They aren't too fond of trespassers."

The apprentice nodded, eyes wide as she gazed across the path into ShadowClan territory. "Their scent stinks," she growled, wrinkling her nose.

Blackwhisker shrugged. "We all have our own Clan scent, which is just as well. I wouldn't like it if all the borders smelled the same; it would be too hard to distinguish where the borders are."

Thrushpaw nodded again, looking up at her mentor intently. "So, this is the end of our territory?" she asked.

"Yep. Going this way, at least." Blackwhisker glanced up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set. "Come on. We'll go back to camp a different way."

oOoOo

The sun was low in the sky by the time the pair returned. Blackwhisker sent Thrushpaw to eat and then to bed. Then, tired, he flopped down in his own nest in the warriors den.

"We're taking the sunhigh patrol," Bluewing announced, padding into the den. "Hawkstar said we should bring our apprentices."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," mumbled Blackwhisker, already half-asleep. "Just let me get some rest."

Bluewing rolled her eyes and padded past him to her own nest, where she lay, grooming one of her friend's fur.

Blackwhisker, meanwhile, had drifted off to sleep. It wasn't dreamless, though. The moment the warrior's eyes opened, he found himself in a sparkly clearing. He realized he must be in StarClan's hunting grounds.

"Can't I get a night of rest without being disturbed?" he grumbled, yawning.

A lithe she-cat with starry white fur padded forward to greet him. Blackwhisker recognized her as Whitestar, the former leader. With a jolt, the tomcat noticed that the clearing was now full of his deceased Clan mates, mainly his friends and family.

He say bolt upright, looking panicked. "W-whitestar! Am I...am I dead?" he cried, eyes stretched wide.

The expression in the white-furred she-cat's eyes was a mixture of gentleness and sadness. "Not yet," she reassured him. "But your time is near."

"No!" Blackwhisker protested, heart pounding. "I can't leave my Clan yet. It's too soon!"

Suddenly, it seemed like dozens of familiar voices were whispering to him all at once. "StarClan are calling you," they said. "StarClan are calling you, Blackwhisker. But do not be afraid. We are waiting..."

"No! No!" Blackwhisker yowled. "No—!"

"Shut up!" a voice spat irritably.

Blackwhisker blinked his eyes open and saw Bluewing glaring down at him. "Er..."

"You said you wanted sleep," she growled icily. "How about letting the rest of us have some?"

Blackwhisker sprang to his paws, eyes wild with fear. "But, but Bluewing!" he gasped. "I-I had this horrible dream!" he exclaimed.

But Bluewing wasn't interested in hearing Blackwhisker's tale. She looked outside the den. "It's barely dawn," she sighed. "Oh, well. Want to go hunting before our patrol?"

"Okay," Blackwhisker agreed. Perhaps participating in normal Clan activities would get his mind off of what the StarClan cats had told him. _Why couldn't they just let me die without me knowing it would happen? _he thought, following Bluewing out of camp.

Hunting started off well. It was Blackwhisker who first found prey, probably because he kept scenting the air, looking anxious. The warrior dropped to a crouch, took a couple steps forward, and pounced onto the mouse.

"Good job," Bluewing mewed.

But Blackwhisker didn't feel good. Actually, he felt guilty for taking the mouse's life, which was odd, because he had never felt that way before. He had always been a good hunter, and had never once felt bad about killing prey. Trying to ignore the feeling, Blackwhisker started to bury the prey.

Suddenly, the ferns rustled beside him. Memories of his dream still fresh in his mind, Blackwhisker leaped sideways with a startled yelp. A squirrel shot out of the bush, followed closely by Bluewing. The creature scrambled up a tree, chittering down at the cats. Angry at the loss, Bluewing rounded on Blackwhisker.

"What's wrong with you?" she spat. "You let it get away!"

Blackwhisker shuffled his paws, embarrassed. Sighing, Bluewing apologized for snapping at him and the pair continued hunting.

Now, though, hunting was a failure. Blackwhisker jumped at every little noise, scaring away a lot of prey. When they returned to camp, they only had Blackwhisker's mouse and a vole and rabbit that Bluewing had managed to catch.

It's almost sunhigh," Bluewing meowed. "I'll go get the apprentices."

Blackwhisker nodded, still feeling a bit shaky. He padded over to the fresh-kill pile and deposited the prey there. Out of nowhere, a shadow appeared, looming over him.

"Ah!" cried Blackwhisker, springing backwards and knocking over the fresh-kill pile. He looked up and realized that it was only Hawkstar. He grinned sheepishly. "H-hello, Hawkstar. D'you need anything?"

The leader frowned, looking slightly confused. "Well, I was just thinking you should leave soon," he mewed a bit hesitantly. "It's nearly sunhigh."

Blackwhisker nodded, straightening up. "Bluewing is getting the apprentices right now."

"Alright." Dipping his head slightly, Hawkstar left, pausing to speak with another warrior.

Just then, Bluewing returned. Behind her were Thrushpaw and Graypaw, Bluewing's apprentice. Both apprentices looked excited about the patrol, but Bluewing was frowning slightly. Blackwhisker swallowed nervously, realizing that the blue-gray she-cat was looking at him.

"R-right, let's g-go," he stammered, fur bristling slightly. "We're going to...the WindClan b-border, right?" He tried desperately not to stutter, but it wasn't working so well.

"Yes, come on." Bluewing gave Blackwhisker a hard stare. "_I'll_ lead."

Blackwhisker blinked his thanks and followed Bluewing. They traveled slowly because Bluewing wanted to test the apprentices' tracking skills. Blackwhisker himself was scenting the air every few paces.

They were nearing the border when Graypaw suddenly stiffened. "I smell fox!" he hissed.

Even as the apprentice called out the warning, three foxes burst out from the bushes. Their cold eyes were gleaming and they looked hungry—very hungry. Then, they lunged.

The fight happened so quickly, Blackwhisker wasn't sure exactly what happened. One moment he was clawing so fiercely, it was as if his life depended on it—and, well, it did—and the next, the fox was gone. He realized that it had hurled itself at his apprentice. Yowling, he leaped at the animal. They tussled around on the forest floor for a moment, biting and clawing. Then, Blackwhisker lunged for the fox's throat. The creature fell in a limp heap—it was dead. Startled, the other two foxes ran away, yelping.

Bluewing, Graypaw, and Thrushpaw clustered around Blackwhisker. He had deep scratches on his flank and belly, and his eyes were glazed with pain. "So this is it," he rasped. "This is my end, and much too soon..."

Thrushpaw let out a soft, grief-filled whimper.

"He's not going far," Bluewing promised the young she-cat gently. "Tonight you'll see him up among the stars of Silverpelt, with StarClan."

Blackwhisker's eyes widened. "No!" he cried. "Worse...it's worse than death..."

"What can be worse than death?" whispered Graypaw, eyes wide.

"Perhaps losing the one you love," murmured Bluewing, whose mate had died last leaf-bare, when greencough had claimed many victims.

"No!" snapped Blackwhisker, clawing the ground, pained.

"Then what?" asked Thrushpaw nervously.

The life was ebbing from Blackwhisker as he bled slowly to death, but he still had enough energy to screech, "Joining StarClan, that's what! Those guys are _creepy_! Give me the Place of No Stars _any_ day!"

Thrushpaw and Graypaw exchanged fearful glances. Bluewing frowned. "Can't you at least die sane?" she sighed.

Blackwhisker shook his head fiercely. "Not only are they creepy, but they're cruel, too...!" He broke off, his breathing labored.

Blackwhisker didn't say anymore. He just lay there, panting. Finally, a last breath shook his body, and he lay limp. The warrior was dead. His end had come.

oOoOo

Blackwhisker opened his eyes with a groan. He glimpsed an all-too familiar starry clearing. "No!" he gasped, leaping to his paws. He looked at his starry fur in dismay. _I'm in StarClan—and my fur has _stars_ in it!_

Whitestar appeared before him once more. "Everything will be alright," she soothed, blinking at him kindly.

"It _will_ be alright _after _you send me to the Place of No Stars!" the warrior retorted.

"No, you will be staying here," replied Whitewing crisply. "No arguments." She turned away sharply.

Blackwhisker groaned as warriors of StarClan crowded around him, greeting him warmly. He gazed up helplessly and asked, "Why is the end worse than death?"

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**Betcha didn't see that one coming! xDDD  
Next up, 'Sun.' Let's see what I can think of for that...  
**


	4. Sun

**A/N: Ahhh, I haven't been updating. Sorryyyy. D: Truth be told, I have about two more chapters written down in my notebook. I'm just so...lazy. xD Anyways, onto the chapter.**

**4. Sun**

Sunlight shone down on the bare WindClan territory, warming the pelts of the dozing cats. Out near a rock slept a black-and-white cat, his long tail curled over his nose. As the sun rose steadily higher in the sky, the tomcat stirred and sat up, yawning.

"I sent out hunting patrols."

The sudden mew made Tallstar jump a little. He quickly relaxed, recognizing his deputy. "Good morning, Mudclaw," he meowed brightly, nodding. He glanced up at the sky. "Looks like another sweltering greenleaf day."

"Is that really something to be cheerful about?" grumbled Mudclaw, tail twitching. "It's getting harder and harder to get water."

Tallstar frowned slightly. "Perhaps we can try the gorge?" he suggested.

Mudclaw looked doubtful, but he didn't respond, so Tallstar called Onewhisker and Webfoot. As soon as they arrived, Tallstar announced, "As you all know, there is a drought, and our water supply is diminishing. We will be going to the gorge for water."

Onewhisker, who also looked a bit dubious, mewed hesitantly, "The gorge is fairly steep. Are you sure it's safe?"

"We'll be going there to make sure it _is_ safe," the leader replied. "Come." He led the three cats out of camp and across WindClan territory. As they padded along, Tallstar noticed that all the grass was dead and parched. _This is more serious than I thought_, he realized in dismay.

Soon they arrived at the gorge. Tallstar peered over the edge. It was a fairly difficult climb—how would the elders ever manage it? He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were full of worry and concern. He shot a swift glance upward and sent a silent prayer to StarClan, but it didn't help that it was mid-morning and all he could see was the sun.

"Right," muttered Mudclaw, breaking the silence. "Anyone want to try going down there?"

After a moment of uneasy silence, Onewhisker mewed bravely, "I will."

The cats stepped back a bit to let Onewhisker pass. He reached a paw down until it touched a small ledge jutting out from the gorge side and hopped down. He edged forward and went down onto another ledge. The tomcat's progress seemed agonizingly slow, and the others looked on with bated breath, even Mudclaw.

Onewhisker seemed to have gathered up more confidence, as he was traveling quicker. Suddenly, one of his front paws, which he had just placed on a rock, slipped. The warrior tumbled down, letting out a startled yelp, and came to a halt on one of the larger ledges towards the bottom.

"Are you okay?" called Tallstar anxiously, his voice bouncing off the walls of the gorge.

"Yes." One whisker's reply was faint, but he didn't sound as if he were in pain. He scrambled back up the gorge—maybe quicker than he should have—but he made it back safely.

"This is too dangerous," Tallstar murmured, eyes clouded with worry.

Webfoot narrowed his eyes and asked, "So what will we do for water?"

Tallstar stood silently for a moment, and Webfoot and Onewhisker exchanged anxious glances; Mudclaw's eyes were narrowed as he gazed at his leader. Finally, Tallstar answered, "There is no other alternative. There is a Gathering in three days; I will ask Leopardstar then for permission to drink from the river in their territory."

"As if RiverClan would help _us_," snorted Mudclaw.

"They might," Tallstar argued. "Besides, there's nothing else we can do except ask for help."

Onewhisker was nodding in agreement, but Mudclaw lashed his tail, clearly dissatisfied.

Tallstar only blinked and, ignoring Mudclaw's obvious disapproval, flicked his tail to beckon to the other cats to follow him before padding back towards the WindClan camp. They plodded across the territory gloomily, not speaking. Tallstar was lost in thought, pondering the sun as he led his warriors home.

_The sun has always given us life and light. Will it end up destroying us?_


End file.
